


Fragments

by sweetcinnamonbun



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bad childhood I guess, But also a lot of fluffy stuff, Emotional Baggage, F/M, like a lot of it, not sure what else to put here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-04-30 03:16:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5148260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetcinnamonbun/pseuds/sweetcinnamonbun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After escaping from HYDRA, you were bound to have trust issues that not even your superhuman abilities could remedy. When the director of SHIELD shows up at your door with an offer, you have to decide whether or not to actually go with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Most anyone who stepped into the studio apartment would note that it was cramped and disorganized, but to you, it was home. The walls were mostly bare, with the exception of a corner that was set aside, the red bricks covered with sketches and chemical formulas.  
You thanked whatever deities that it wasn’t yet winter, seeing as your heat wasn’t working and you were forced to clutch the chipped mug of a weak coffee a little too tightly to warm your hands. Perhaps working would be more helpful? It would at least get your mind off of the morning chill that still lingered after you dragged yourself from under the covers.  
You sniffed, walking over to the small desk in the papered corner and taking a seat. What formula had you been working on last night? Right. You were working on something for your pyro friend. What you wouldn’t give for him to be there in your apartment, giving off just enough heat for you to finally drop the blanket that you wore as a lazily made cape.  
Again, you stared at the paper, hoping for something to jump out at you so that you could properly synthesize the material for your powered friends. You yourself had been lucky enough to inherit a genetic complex that had enhanced your mind, granting you the ability to move things around the room… Or at least that had become the norm for you since you had broken free from the facility.  
Your grip on the pencil tightened as that wretched place crossed your mind, causing it to snap under the pressure of your fear and rage. They had taken everything from you. How could you not be outraged at the mere thought of that accursed organization? They hadn’t even left you with your own name, just broken bits and pieces…  
You tossed away the pieces of the now useless writing utensil into the bin next to your desk with a low groan, opening one of the drawers to pluck out a fresh pencil to start again. A knock on the door drove you from your thoughts, a slight scowl passing over your face before you pulled yourself from the chair to take a peek at who could possibly be at the door.  
You had expected the glass to be fogged over and the door to be a bit too cold from one of your other friends looking for a place to crash again, but instead it was a man you had never seen before. He had kind eyes and a nice smile, but your stomach lurched. Who was it? How did they find you? You had adopted several aliases to hide under.  
Whoever it was, they were not welcome, and so you stepped back and took a deep breath, keeping as quiet as you could.  
He knocked again, “Ma’am, we know you’re in there. Please open the door.”  
“How did you know where to find me?” you growled, blindly groping behind you for the bat that you kept near the door for occasions such as this. You were not going back. Not without a fight.  
The man was quiet for a moment. Your hand finally grasped the baseball bat as you waited for his response. “Your friend… The one known as Cryo. She said we could find you here. We need you for your pioneering work in making new fibers to withstand different abilities.”  
You hissed at the idea that your friend had ratted you out to the people you were hiding away from. But was he? Thinking it over, you realized that if it had been them, they would have already charged into the room and taken you down. “Who are you? Who do you work for?”  
“My name’s Coulson. I’m the director of SHIELD.”

You had been eyeing Coulson for a while now. You didn’t trust him, but even with as much prying as you had been doing, you couldn’t find anything that pointed to him being an actual agent of those who had trained you since childhood. You took a deep breath, your body tense. You were ready to strike if the need arose.  
But the whole time, Coulson kept talking. You hadn’t been kind enough to listen to what he was saying, with the exception of the occasional comment about how things were going in his quest to do something. There was also a comment or a bad pun about his hand.  
You just kept staring him down with a severe intensity.  
“… And of course… That is where you come in,” he finished, finally looking over at you.  
Maybe you should have been paying attention. You felt as though you had just missed something incredibly important.  
“I’m sorry?” you inquired, an eyebrow raised.  
“I need you to make specialized suits for the inhumans that are joining my team.”  
You paused for a moment, “I’m sorry, but you have to understand I’m not entirely familiar with that term…”  
“People with powers. It’s a bit complicated and there are people who could explain it better than I could.”  
You looked at your hands, examining them as you took in a deep breath, “They referred to us as so many other things… The one I remember the most was ‘weapon’.” There was a long moment before you spoke up again. “I can leave if I want to, right?”  
He nodded, “Though it would be nice if you stayed. You’d be harder for them to find if you stayed close by.”  
Before any other words could be spoken, the car lurched to a halt, and there seemed to be an explosion of anxiety within the pit of your stomach. The door opened, letting in a gust of fresh and chilly air and the sounds of training. You instinctively pulled the tattered, secondhand jacket closer as you stepped out of the car and onto a dirt path. There was an expanse of trimmed green and brown grass with a concrete building set in the middle of it. It seemed familiar to you, and you took a slight step backwards.  
“What is this place?” you asked, a bit angrily.  
“Avenger’s headquarters. There are a few people who are going to need your help here as well. Your office would be located here. You’ll have access to the best that science has to offer… And some of Stark’s money as well. But that’s only if you take up the job, of course.”  
You nodded and let out a sigh to let the swarm of butterflies free, walking with Coulson to the door of the facility. He opened the door for you, his kind smile still on his face, but you refused his kindness. You still didn’t trust him.  
Honestly, you didn’t really trust anyone.  
Still, the man was patient with you and walked with you to the large office.  
“This will be your office.”  
You snorted, thinking it was a joke. You had only gotten a partial look at it, and you already knew that it was larger than your tiny apartment. There were desks and computers and more bolts of fabric than you’d thought possible. Along one wall, several mannequins of all different shapes and sizes were positioned.  
“This is more like a house than an office,” you commented, finally stepping into the room. You were waiting until the joke was revealed, but the moment never came. You looked at the man in shock. “You’re entirely serious about this place, aren’t you?”  
“If you think this is big, you should see the hanger… Or even the labs. We have a lot of people coming through here. You might even warm up and hire a few assistants.”  
You swallowed drily and continued walking through the room, running your fingers over a silky (favorite color) material. “What’s this one for?”  
“Well, most of this is just for fun. Stark likes to throw parties. Your friend said that you didn’t have a lot to wear.”  
You shrugged, “So what’s the catch with this place?”  
“We think it would be a good idea for you to live in one of the on-site housing facilities. That’s the only suggestion we have for you.”  
“I’ll think about it.”  
“Then I’ll let you get familiar with the office.”  
As soon as he left, you walked around the office, discovering all of the interesting things that someone had deemed necessary for a superhero fashion designer. You had never even used half of the things that were stuffed into the drawers. Maybe that would change. Maybe working here would be a good thing, after all.  
Nothing in your life had ever come without a catch, so you still hesitated.  
Then that was it! You could still live at your apartment and then work here. You had the option, at the very least. Or maybe you should live here. It seemed as though there was a working heating system and regular meals. There were also plenty of people.  
If this really was SHIELD, then you wouldn’t have to worry about HYDRA in the middle of the night.  
Your thoughts were buzzing so quickly that you didn’t even notice when someone stepped through the door to your new and highly impressive office until someone cleared their throat loudly. You turned to look at them, pulling down a bolt of fabric that you had grabbed onto as you did.  
Of course the man who stood in front of the door would look familiar. It was a face you had seen on the cover of several magazines after you ran away from HYDRA. You felt your cheeks flush from embarrassment before you knelt down to pick up the bolt of fabric from the floor, hastily putting it on one of the work desks.  
“Mr. Stark,” you muttered, “What a surprise.”  
He leaned against the door, snacking on a handful of dried fruit. “What do you think of it?”  
You looked over the office one more time before answering, “You must have put a lot of thought into this.”  
He shrugged, offering the bag of apple chips to you. You refused as politely as you could, smoothing out the fabric on the desk. “That doesn’t tell me what YOU think of it.”  
You muttered to yourself and glanced up at him, “I think I’ll work here… Possibly live here, but only if I have the option to leave whenever I want… if I feel uncomfortable with something, I have the right to leave immediately.”  
“I thought we were supposed to be negotiating something here, not stating the obvious.”  
You pursed your lips, “Fine then. No barging into my office, and I want a scientist on hand to test out my theories as they come. And I want coffee every morning. Good coffee.”  
He chuckled to himself before tossing another small handful of the fruit into his mouth, “I’ll see what the others have to say about that. When can you start working here?”  
“Next week. I need time to settle and take any evaluations before I start working here.”  
He chuckled, tossing another dried apple into his mouth, “You’ll be evaluated by one of Coulson’s best… He’ll probably give you a lanyard before you’ll be allowed back in here. He’s very particular about the lanyards.” He held up a finger as he chewed on the fruit, pulling a lanyard from under his shirt.  
You raised an eyebrow, “What am I doing for the rest of the day? Packing up my apartment?”  
He shook his head, “Taken care of already. I’m having FRIDAY deliver them here.”  
You cringed at the idea of someone filing their way through your things and learning all of your secrets, and you felt the anger bubbling just under the surface.  
Calm down, your thoughts repeated. They’re just being helpful.  
After a deep breath, you took one last look at the room, “I guess you should just show me to my new apartment.”  
“I was hoping you would say that.”


	2. The First Meeting

You had never been more impressed with a facility in your life.  
Not only were there labs and offices littered throughout the building, but also a massive hangar and a vast expanse of fields. The living quarters were close by, but just far enough for a leisurely walk between unpacking and your evaluations. You hadn’t had the pleasure of much of anyone else since Tony, with the exception of the Koenig brothers and the occasional person you passed by. You had passed Captain America a few times, but he was preoccupied and so you left him alone with his thoughts.  
Stark left you to wander during your free time, and you generally spent most of it sitting outside with a sketchbook and a Styrofoam cup of coffee or tea. Sometimes, you would forget about the book in your hands, watching the swarm of SHIELD agents taking laps around the building. Sometimes, one or two would look your way, flashing a smile. You weren’t sure if they were flirting, not that you really even cared. It was just nice to have a friendly face to look at.  
Finally, though, your week of “vacation” ended. You held the lanyard in your hands, running your fingers over the smooth plastic. It was navy blue, with a dark printed code on one side and a silvery eagle on the other. You’d been given the title of consultant, which you didn’t mind, though you knew your job would be much more involved than just consulting. You stepped through the halls, a slight familiarity starting to grow for the glass walls and hard flooring. Your shoes clacked against the tiles until you found the doors to your office. You waved the badge in front of the scanner, the lock making a satisfying click before you pushed it open.  
Not much had changed from the first time you were there, much to your enjoyment, though there were several files placed on top of one of your desks. You stepped over to examine them, flicking a switch on your way over. Each file had a different name printed on the front. Quake, Quicksilver and… Sparkplug? You laughed, wondering what kind of strange name you would have been given, had they known about your own abilities.  
The lock on the door clicked again, and you looked up from one of the files to glance at whoever was coming in. Nothing but a breeze that set you on edge. Wonderful. A light thump made you turn your attention back to the desk, where a paper latte cup now sat and one of your files was now missing. You looked the room over once again before finally catching sight of the culprit.  
He was leaning against a wall, looking over the missing file with a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. You cringed both at his being there without knocking and at the thick smell of burnt rubber. You nonchalantly stepped over to a window, pushing it open to try and lessen the smell.  
“Apparently Stark didn’t pass on that you should knock,” you sneered, picking up the coffee and examining it, only to find a phone number written in a black marker. “Who is this Tiffany?”  
He finally looked over at you, closing the file with the sound of papers smacking together. Your lip twitched at the sound and he seemed to disappear for a moment, the door slamming closed. You rolled your eyes and looked at the cup once more, lifting it to your lips, but you were interrupted by a knock at the door. You set the cup down and answered, the same man from before now leaning against the frame. You opened the door and let him in.  
“Better?” he asked and you nodded your reply and motioned for him to take a seat while you finally had your morning treat. Here he was. Your first appointment, and you knew it. He zipped over to a spinning chair, leaning back and kicking his feet up onto a nearby stool. You glanced at the soles of his shoes, which looked as though they had been worn through at the bottom, though the rest of them looked brand new. You sighed, knowing that you had your work cut out for you.  
As you looked him over, you could feel his eyes on you. You took a sip of your coffee before opening your handbag and extracting a small bottle of pills. You poured a few into your hand and tossed them into your mouth, choking them down with a long swig of the hot brew. He cocked an eyebrow at you and you shook your head as you took another drink.  
“I’m prone to really bad migraines,” you answered, picking up the file on Quicksilver. You muttered out the list of his abilities, again feeling his piercing eyes on you. You glanced up at him from your studying, “Can you please stop staring at me like that?”  
It was then that you decided he wasn’t very good at listening to you.  
“Right then… I can tell you I have never actually designed anything for someone with superhuman speed,” you began, closing the file and setting it on the desk. Immediately, you picked up a new sketchbook and took a seat.  
“So, you are saying that I would be your first?” he asked, his smirk reappearing. You looked at him, confused.  
“Yes… I thought I had just said that.” Maybe it was just the language barrier? Though he seemed to speak English rather well. His smirk dropped. “Well then… I suppose we should discuss concerns you have about the new suit and then we’ll get your measurements.”  
He dropped his feet from the stool and they landed with a slight thump before he swung side-to-side, the chair creaking all the while. You could feel your eye twitching slightly, but he seemed to be thinking things through, so you decided against telling him to stop. While he thought, you took another careful look at his appearance.  
His shaggy hair fell into his face in silver, windswept waves. His clothes seemed worn through in some places, and you immediately knew you had your work cut out for you. He had great muscle tone and a handsome face. At some point he must have noticed your studying him, because as your eyes made it back to his face, he winked at you.  
Before things got too awkward (and you knew that they were about to, judging by the things running through his mind), you asked him to voice his concerns once again. He seemed genuinely disappointed by this for a moment.  
“It can’t be too thick or too thin,” he explained.  
You nodded slightly, slightly amused as you wrote down not to make a jumpsuit out of blue spandex. You motioned for him to continue, not daring to actually comment, for fear of actually letting slip the idea that was now stuck in your mind. Unfortunately, your mind had gotten the better of you and you let out a snort before he had gotten the chance to say anything else to you. He raised an eyebrow at you while you tried to regain your composure.  
“What is so funny?” he asked, and you wondered if you had offended him.  
“Nothing!” you hastily lied, “I just finally understood a joke that a friend told me.” Man you were lucky that he didn’t know you too well. You would have been called out immediately on that one if he did. Friends were in short supply in your life.  
At least you knew that mental image wasn’t leaving any time soon.  
The rest of his concerns were voiced after a while. Now you knew the kind of materials he liked and that he was partial to grays and blues, as well as throwing in awkward comments into the conversation. You had to admit that his behavior was strange. You decided it would be better to hold off on taking his measurements until after his thoughts calmed down significantly. The speed in which he thought things seemed to only add to the massive, splitting headache. You set down the sketchbook, rubbing your temples as you thought of something to say. Finally it came to you.  
You looked at him with a polite smile, “Alright sir, thank you for your opinions. I’ll keep them in mind while I’m sketching out some designs. I’ll call you back in when we can discuss the uniform ideas and work out something that won’t wear through so quickly.” You subtly motioned to his shoes, and he chuckled to himself.  
He stood up and wrote something on the corner of your sketchbook before zipping off. You snorted when you saw what it was. Didn’t he know that you lived in the same facility? Why would you need his phone number when you two would likely see each other every day, especially during meals… Perhaps he wasn’t aware? Or was he just so excited to see when you were making that he wanted to know the second that the designs were up? Whatever the reason, you still couldn’t help the amused laugh as you closed the sketchbook with a roll of your eyes. You grabbed several items, tossing them into a black messenger bag before walking outside to sit outside while you worked on your theories.  
You took in a deep breath, a smile faintly on your lips as you took in the fresh air. There was a sense of peace that you had not felt in a long time, and being outside was a good change. You didn’t feel as scared as you had been before, but you remained suspicious as always.  
HYDRA was an organization that had mastered infiltration long before you had been brought to them… And the passing thought was enough to make your stomach churn with uneasiness. Maybe sitting outside wasn’t such a great idea after all? Maybe it would be safer to sit in your small room to sketch with the blinds closed. No one can see you. It’s safer that way.  
You packed up your stuff, sadly scanning the brightly lit grounds before slinging the strap over your shoulder. You took a deep breath, smelling the fresh air one last time before heading to the living quarters. You stepped through the expansive lawn, keeping your head down and watching your feet.  
Your thoughts had returned to the dark place, and you were already wondering if you had made the best and safest choice for yourself by coming here. Your stomach twisted as you considered all the different possibilities of what could happen. How many of them were really even possible? You weren’t sure, but the idea left you feeling incredibly nauseous. You took a deep breath and slung the strap over your shoulder, jogging to your living quarters and nearly barreling into the a few people who were jogging on the track.  
You fumbled with your keys for a moment, panic setting in heavily as you tried to get into the one place that you called safe and closed the door behind you.

**Author's Note:**

> I have been thinking through this plot for a really long time and thanks to some awesome discussion, I'm finally done with the intro. I'm also about halfway through with chapter one.


End file.
